


Even

by DeathjunkE



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-10
Updated: 2010-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-26 21:47:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathjunkE/pseuds/DeathjunkE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius leaned forward and pressed his lips against the freckled cheek of Ron’s worn face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even

**Author's Note:**

> **Name/LJ:** DeathJunkE  
>  **Title:** Even  
>  **Rating:** R  
>  **Word Count:** 1354  
>  **Pairing(s):** Ron, Scorp mentions of; Draco/Hugo  
>  **Warnings:** Mentions of non-con chan, character death, cross dressing , ewe  
>  **Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.   
> **Author/Artist's Notes:**  
>  Written for prompt #5

Red was most certainly his color. The dress, bedecked with its ribbons and lace, hugged his torso snugly just before it draped itself over the puffed petticoats. The ivory shrug was tied in a neat bow around his shoulders and matched the Mary Jane shoes down to the exact shade.

He made such an adorable little girl with his pointed face and big gray eyes. His androgynous frame was thin and feminine, adding to the illusion. Scorpius looked so cute in Rose’s old dress --in Ron's opinion, anyway.

“Do you like it, Mr. Weasley?”

“Look at you, fishing for compliments.” Ron's rich chuckle that followed reverberated through the small attic. “Let me add the finishing touches, alright?”

Scorpius’ gray eyes followed the large freckled hands as they diligently placed a dark red Alice band carefully onto his head, careful to pin the loose strands of hair back. “There. You look great.”

“Thank you for inviting me over, Mr. Weasley!” The boy beamed and spun in place. His hair glinted gold and white as it flew through the air before settling about his shoulders. “You know, at first I thought wearing a dress would be strange but I like it. I can pretend to be someone else.”

 _I’m pretending you’re someone else too, kid._ Ron thought to himself as he said, “You’re welcome. Was it hard to find this place?”

“No. I took the Floo to the Leaky Cauldron and then here.” Scorpius tapped the toe of the Mary Jane against the floor a few times, probably scuffing it, as he looked around the playroom.

The boy couldn’t have possibly understood what was going on. A part of Ron felt terribly guilty as he watched the child, entranced. This charming child was going to suffer for the sins of his father. Ron raised the camera with a forced smile, “Ready?”

“Father and I never do anything this fun!” The boy said just before he smiled for the camera. He changed positions and grinned widely. When the flash went off he started talking again, “All we ever do is go over manners and accounts and traditions. All that boring stuff.”

Ron watched the boy flit around the room. He was nothing like his father. Scorpius was energetic, happy and pleasant. With a heavy heart, he watched Scorpius pick up an old teddy bear. One could barely tell that it had once been snow white, time, neglect and dust had changed it color to eggshell.

“Oh look!” Scorpius' small childish hands worked at dusting the bear off. Scorpius hugged the big bear with a wistful expression on his face. “Is he yours?”

Ron felt his gut twist unpleasantly as the memories assaulted him.

When Ron had brought the bear Hermione and Rose had laughed. _"It'll be ruined in a week! Hugo will get that poor thing filthy."_

But Ron had brought the bear for his son, and that was the only person who he would give it to. As it turned out the bear was put into very capable hands. Little Hugo christened the bear Rupert and proceeded to drag it about everywhere. Rupert came with Hugo to his sister's tea party, the mud-pie bakery in the back yard, up to the attic play room and every where else as well. The little bear had never gotten dirty and was never far from Hugo's fingertips.

To see Scorpius holding that bear --the very same bear that Hugo never wanted to leave without, the bear he let go of Ron's hand for on that fateful day—it hurt.

 

“No.” Ron shook his head trying to shake the image of Hugo’s debauched corpse from his mind’s eye. His little freckled arms wrapped around Rupert, stiff with death. “Rupert belonged to my son, Hugo. If you want, you can keep him.”

“Father told me toys were for idiot children and plebeians but I think they’re neat. I’ve always wanted one.” Once more Scorpius smiled. Ron felt his heart ache. Was he really going to destroy this innocent child? --This happy smiling boy, who wanted nothing more than a playmate and a few kind words.

Ron’s blue eyes tracked the boy as Scorpius flitted about the attic jovially; examining the toys and figures, in awe of all of them. He never touched any of them, preferring to keep his arms wrapped around Rupert. His fingers petting the cream-colored bear the whole time. Scorpius chatted happily as Ron imagined his own son suffering and screaming under the cruel and humiliating ministrations of Draco Malfoy, the last surviving Death Eater.

He’d seen the pensive memories and pictures of Draco fucking his baby boy. The sick bastard had dressed Hugo up like Alice with a baby blue dress and white apron. There had been no Wonderland awaiting the boy just pain and death. Draco had shown no mercy to the child. He had continued to fuck the eight-year even while Hugo screamed and sobbed begging to be let go and crying for his Daddy.

Ron clenched his fist and did his best to push the memories away but it was nearly impossible. Draco had been cruel, he had sent the memories, photos and Rupert in a colorfully wrapped gift box carried by owl just hours before the Aurors found Hugo’s body. There were no faces or distinguishing marks for the investigators to see who had committed the atrocities against his son but Ron knew who it was. He knew and he would not be denied his revenge. Hugo’s case had been marked unsolved and shoved in a file cabinet back at the Ministry of Magic, but Ron refused to let it end there. Draco Malfoy would feel everything Ron had felt. Malfoy would experience the terror, the helplessness and the despair that Ron suffered for three never-ending weeks.

With a slow sigh, Ron held out a hand. “Come here, Scorpius.” The child came, with a question in his eyes. “You know, I really do love you. I wish I could keep you.”

“I love you too.” Scorpius leaned forward and pressed his lips against the freckled cheek of Ron’s worn face. “I wish you were my Daddy.”

Ron wrapped his arms around the boy and tried not to think of Hugo’s limp little body, violated and discarded in a ditch. When the little blond pulled back from the hug, Ron gently pressed his palms to the plump pink cheeks gently admiring and memorizing the child’s face. He let his hands trail down to that pale neck and drew his fingers across it gently.

One squeeze would be all it took, but Scorpius would thrash and have that look of fright in his eyes that Ron couldn’t bear to see on another child.

One twist would put the boy out in an instant, painless and quick, but then he would be left with Scorpius’ limp, unmoving body. The child was life and energy embodied—to see him like that would be just as bad as seeing Hugo in that cum-stained dress with dirt and leaves in his hair.

There was always a too large dose of dreamless sleep. With that Scorpius' heart would slow until it stopped completely and he'd be none the wiser. The boy would slip into the land of dreams and never return.

“Would you like some tea Scorpius?”

The child nodded and made his way to the window running his fingers along the dirty glass, drawing little stick people. “Thank you so much.”

Ron stirred the lemon into the tea and then poured a heavy dose of the sweet syrupy potion into the mug. “You don’t have to thank me every time you turn around you know.”

“I know, it’s just that… I’m so glad to be here away from the screaming.” Scorpius turned to face Ron who could only see the outline of his body against the setting sun that streamed into the window. “The boy Father kept in the basement… He screamed for his daddy all the time, sometimes I think I can still hear him. You won't make me scream while you keep me will you?”

Ron gave the boy a watery smile and handed him the mug, “No, I’ll only ever make you smile.”

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley.” Those pale slender hands wrapped around the warm ceramic mug before he swallowed deeply and gratefully.


End file.
